


It Works Great For You To Have Your Way

by annemari



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Animal Play, Community: kink_bingo, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 20:46:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annemari/pseuds/annemari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You know, you can lose control," she says, digging her nails into Scott's back and he groans.</p>
<p>"What do you mean?"</p>
<p>"I mean," she says. "I don't mind a bit of claws. Or something else."</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Works Great For You To Have Your Way

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers up to episode 3x10. Thank you so much to **eloiserummaging** for the beta work! Written for Kink Bingo, for the square "animal play". Title from "Cold Cold Water" by Mirah.

Things change after their parents get taken and Lydia almost gets killed by their English teacher. Who is an evil druid. Scott wonders if he should have seen it coming, but she wasn't even on Stiles's list of suspects. They might get a pass on this one. (Not that Stiles forgives himself. Not that Scott does, either.)

One of the many things that changes is how now Lydia will call up Scott, not Stiles. It's strange, and Stiles is kind of irritated at first because they had a deal, "a dead body deal, Lydia, and yes, I know that's a terrible name," but then Lydia snaps at him and says, "We're trying to _avoid_ dead bodies here, Stiles." That Stiles gets, of course.

And it's usually still Scott and Stiles together who reach the scenes first—Stiles drives like a maniac, and even manages to beat Scott when Scott's on his bike. Scott would call him on putting himself in unnecessary danger but he knows that with the sheriff still healing and off the force, Stiles needs something to go his way.

They all do.

In any case, they catch Ms. Blake—the Darach, Stiles spits coldly, and Scott finds himself agreeing—and they hope that means no non-werewolf deaths for a while. The alpha pack dissolves quickly, and in any case, Lydia doesn't really seem to predict werewolf-caused deaths, not really.

But then something new comes to town and all bets are off.

~

"This is the place, Lydia says. "I _know_ this is it."

She lifts her head and looks at Scott, eyes wide. She hasn't had to do this since the Darach and Scott knows she hasn't been able to hone her skill as much as she wants.

"I'm sure it is," Scott says carefully. "I trust you." He's trying to skirt the line between reassuring and condescending. He knew where it was exactly when it came to Allison, but Lydia's different. Sometimes Scott messes up.

Lydia just sighs and looks around. "Where's everyone else?"

"On their way," Scott says. He knows Allison is driving Isaac, and they'll pick up Stiles on the way, since his car got totaled—without him in it, thank god.

"I think," Lydia says slowly. "I think maybe we should go in."

Scott blinks. "In?"

"In," Lydia says. "Into the factory. I think it's there."

"The body?" Scott asks. "Or the killer?"

"Both," Lydia says decisively. "Let's go."

"Uh, wait," he says. "I can do this part myself?"

She glares at him. He grasps about for things to use as a bargain, then notices her shoes. He raises an eyebrow at them. "I can run in these," she says. "Trust me, I can handle it."

He still hesitates. Lydia snorts and shakes her head. "You guys," she says. "All the same, right? You want me to find people we need to help and then not allow me to actually help."

"You are helping," Scott says immediately. She narrows her eyes at him. Allison always hated when Scott implied she couldn't take care of herself. Scott takes a deep, centering breath. He got over that with Allison; why can't he do the same with Lydia?

She's still looking at him. He glances around the parking lot—no sight of any of the guys yet. They're wasting time. "Let's go," he says, and her face clears and she lets out a breath.

"Just let me do the dirty work, okay?" he says.

"Sure," she says. Her voice sounds a little thin. "Whatever. This way." She starts walking quickly in the direction of the abandoned factory, her shoes clicking. "Come on, don't fall behind."

He breathes in deep and follows.

~

"You know," Lydia says. "That was profoundly stupid."

Scott groans and clutches his belly. The beast had gotten its claws in and ripped, and even though Derek reported that his wound wasn't fatal to werewolves, it still really hurts.

Scott shakes his head. "At least we saved him."

There was a kid, probably barely twelve. The beast had lured it away, like so many others, but he wasn't dead. Thanks to Lydia.

"You saved him," he says.

She rolls her eyes but she's smiling. (He remembers back to their last year, when all this was just starting and she was smart and cocky and beautiful and went after everything she wanted. It seems like forever ago.)

Lydia helps him wrap the make-shift bandage around himself tighter and then pulls him to his feet, supporting his weight.

"Also a stupid idea, sending everyone with at least some kinds of medical skills away," Lydia says. Scott makes a face. Allison and Stiles are getting the kid back home, and then Stiles will probably go to fill in his dad. Scott trusted Isaac with taking his bike back. Isaac didn't seem happy about leaving them behind, but logistically Scott's plan was pretty sound.

Lydia rolls her eyes again when Scott points that out. "Sure," she says. "And what if you start bleeding to death again and Allison's not here to stitch you up?"

Scott pauses. "That's not gonna happen."

"It better not," Lydia says seriously. "And please try not to bleed on my seats."

"Noted," Scott says. "Yeah."

~

"It's almost healed," Scott says, carefully checking the wound in the front seat. "The poison's not harmful to us; Derek was right."

"A rare occurrence," Lydia says and Scott laughs.

He leans back against the seat, and breathes out. Thank god. He's so tired of bleeding all the time. He watches a couple buildings go by and frowns. "Where are we going?"

He looks at Lydia who's staring straight ahead, her lips pursed. "I thought," she says slowly, "we should take care of your wound."

"But I'm fine," Scott says, confused. He was a little woozy at first, and his stomach kind of hurts and itches as the wound heals, but he's fine.

Lydia knows slowly, and says, "Okay. But we're almost at my place."

She looks—not embarrassed, exactly, but she's still biting her lip, and she's staring at the road. Scott tilts his head, and breathes in deep. Oh. Oh, okay.

Lydia turns her head, looks at him and asks, "So do you want to come over?" Her eyes are intent on Scott's face.

"Y—yeah," Scott says. He really really does.

~

Scott carefully lowers himself out of Lydia's car. The wound still twinges—it's taking a bit longer than usual, maybe on par with wounds from an Alpha—but it's okay.

He's surprised when Lydia steps in and wraps her arm around his waist, supporting him. It's nice, though—he's tired from the fight and she's warm and smells good.

Scott blinks and wrinkles his nose. Fuck, that never works.

"We have a first aid kit in the bathroom," she says, and leads him into the house. Prada comes running and sits down, wagging her tail at them.

"Hey, Prada," Scott says, smiling.

She barks once and stares up at him, happy.

"Prada, please," Lydia says, scoffing, but she sounds amused.

"Uh, I don't think I need anything from the first aid kit?" Scott says. "It's really fine."

Lydia pulls away from him and goes to close the door. She turns and places her hands on her hips, and says, "I like you, Scott. I'm _interested_ in you. And that's not really a common occurrence, you know."

"Uh," Scott says. "Okay?"

She raises her eyebrows. "That's it?"

"Uh." Scott thinks about it. He's brain's gone kind of fuzzy. "I—um."

She takes a step closer, a smile playing at her lips. "I think that sounds a bit more promising."

"It does?" Scott asks. He swallows hard. Lydia's gorgeous and Scott remembers when they kissed, like, forever ago, but that was the full moon and he was messed up and felt guilty as hell afterward. But he'd wanted to. He really wants to right now, too. He steps in closer, and Lydia makes a pleased sound and kisses him.

He wraps his arms around her, pulling her in. She's soft and warm, and she tangles her fingers in his hair and it's kind of amazing.

She pulls back, and looks at him. "Bedroom," she says, and he follows her.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks. He can't help it.

She throws him a quick look and closes the door. "Yes," she says. "You?"

He nods. "Yeah," he says, and Lydia smiles. She takes off her shoes and walks up to Scott—she's so much shorter than him; he forgets it because she wears heels all the time.

Scott takes off his jacket and drops it to the floor.

"Let me help you with that," Lydia says, and pulls off Scott's shirt as well.

Scott looks down at his abdomen—the wound's gone, completely healed now. Lydia trails her hand over his chest and down, fingers gentle over his stomach.

"It's gone," she says, her voice quiet.

"Yeah," he says. "Uh. I heal fast?"

She gives him one of those "God, you really don't get it" looks, but the next minute it's gone and she's reaching up to kiss him again, tangling her fingers in his hair.

"Your jeans too," she says, mouth brushing against his and he pulls back and takes them off, kicking them to the side. She smiles at him, a quirk of her lips, pleased. "Good. Go lie down on the bed."

He complies hastily, and stretches out. He's barely lain down when she's on top of him, straddling his thighs, and kissing him again.

They make out until she's gasping, trying to catch her breath, and he sits up and buries his face against her neck, breathing her in. Her skin is soft and her hair smells so damn good.

She pushes him away and leans back in to kiss him again. She tastes amazing and Scott wants to taste _her_.

"You know, you can lose control," she says, digging her nails into Scott's back and he groans.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," she says. "I don't mind a bit of claws. Or something else."

He's not exactly sure how he feels about that. "I—" he says. "Uh, I've never—"

"You and Allison never did that?"

He shakes his head. "I was afraid I'd hurt her. And—she never asked. I mean, sometimes it happened by accident? But, uh. No." 

Allison never minded when it happened, just pointed it out so Scott could center himself. He never wanted to risk it, for so many reasons. But he's better at it now. He's finally got it under control and he's actually pretty proud of that, especially when he looks back to those first few months. And all those broken bra straps.

"Well," Lydia says. "Maybe if one day she does ask you'll be ready for it."

He frowns. "Lydia."

She rolls her eyes. "Please, Scott, we all know how the story of you and Allison is gonna end."

He pauses. His hand is on her butt which makes it slightly more awkward. "Lydia, I don't—" He wants to tell her he's not thinking about Allison, but now that she brought her up it feels like a blatant lie. He doesn't wish she was Allison instead.

"Spare me," she says. She's smiling, though. "Anyone can guess. Besides, I made my peace with it a long time ago."

He frowns; he's not sure exactly what she means. It sounds like she means—

"Come on, Scott," she says, impatient now. Her nails dig into his shoulders and he wonders if that's what she wants him to do with his claws. "I mean, you can back out, but—"

"No," Scott says. He'll ask her later. Ask whether she was talking about him or Allison or both. He kind of really hopes both. "I was just—" He gently places his hand on the back of her head and pulls her down. She kisses him, and he arches up off the bed and against her, it's so damn good. She's an amazing kisser, and Scott remembered that, vaguely, but he never expected them to end up here again.

"I'm glad," he mumbles against her lips, and she pulls back, confused.

"What?"

Scott smiles. "I'm glad I'm here."

She stares at him for a moment, brow furrowed, and then laughs. "Good," she says and leans back in.

"Why?" he asks.

She stops before her lips touch his and pulls back slowly. "Why what?"

"Why do you want me to—you know."

"I like being in charge," she says, shrugging.

"I know."

She smirks. "Then this will work out well, I think." She strokes his chest, over his pec, and then down his arm over the tattoo to his hand. Her other hand is playing with his nipple. She squeezes and he jerks his hips up. She rocks with the motion and smiles.

He gasps when she _twists_ his nipple, and he can feel the wolf react, deep inside. "Wait," he says. "Wait, I don't know what you—what do you want me to do. Do I just—what?"

"I want you to let go," she says.

He breathes in. "I don't want to hurt you."

She rolls her eyes. "I dated a murderous lizard creature and an equally murderous alpha werewolf. I think I can handle it."

He growls, and her eyes widen. "They were assholes," he says. "You deserve better."

She tilts her head. "I know," she says slowly. "You don't have to tell me."

He takes in a deep breath, feeling embarrassed. "Sorry."

She shrugs. "You know why I dated Aiden, though? You know, before."

"Why?"

"All that power," she says. "And strength. And still he did exactly what I said."

He breathes in, his belly quivering. She's sitting on top of him, still, and he's been hard for a while now. "I'll do exactly as you say."

"I know," she smiles. "And you'll do more, won't you?" She grabs his hand and lifts it up, brushing her fingertips against his nails. "I never let them wolf out on me," she says. "Because they were assholes. But you get to."

"And that's what you want?" he asks.

"That's exactly what I want." She drops his hand and leans down to kiss him again. Her hands go to his hair and he whines into his mouth. So fucking good.

He grabs her waist and squeezes, and jerks his hips up. She makes a pleased little sound, and his chest feels warm. He slips his hands under her shirt, touching bare skin.

"Can I take this off?"

"Wait," she says. "Let me." She carefully pulls the shirt off and jumps up to lay it down on a chair next to her closet. Now she's only wearing a bra, a skirt and tights. She's gorgeous.

She climbs back into the bed and settles herself over him. "Better?"

He pulls her down for another kiss. He can't figure out if he wants them both to be naked, or if he likes it like this. Well, he definitely likes it like this.

"What do you want?" he asks. "What can I do?"

She twists her hand in his hair, and kisses him until he's out of breath and panting.

"I want you to do something with your hands," she says, and he moves them from his sides down to her thighs, and squeezes. "I'll ruin your tights."

"They're old," she says. "Go for it." She kisses him again and again, and her hand teases his nipple while the other is pulling his hair, and it's clear she's got him exactly where she wants him.

His dick's hard and he kind of desperately wants to fuck her, can feel she's getting wet even through her panties and tights, can _smell_ it, but he also loves her sitting there on his hips, loves the way he gets to hold onto her.

He notices when his claws start itching. He suppresses it.

It's like Lydia can read minds, because she says, again, "You can lose control. I told you."

"I don't—actually like to do that."

Lydia pauses and pulls back, looks at him. After a moment she leans down and kisses him gently, briefly. "Okay," she says. "But can you wolf out on purpose? Would you want to?"

"You'd like that, right?" Scott asks, making sure.

"Yes," she says. "Yes, that's why I'm asking."

He nods and takes a deep breath, then closes his eyes. He shifts easily, concentrating just on his body at first, concentrating on keeping calm and focused, and then his face changes, and he comes back to awareness, feeling very aware of Lydia on top of him.

"Wow," Lydia whispers, so quiet Scott doesn't think he was meant to hear.

He shifts under her, a little restless and she leans down and touches his face, trails her fingers over his cheeks and up to his ears.

He swallows hard. His hands are on her waist, claws carefully touching her sides. "So," he says. "Uh, what do you think?"

She smiles down at him. "I think you should fuck me."

His eyes go wide. "Really?"

"Yes." She nods, and her hair falls down in front of her face. She reaches up to push it behind her ear. He strokes her cheek as he's pulling his hand back, and there's something soft about her expression at that moment. He really likes her. She's Lydia.

She blinks and shakes her hair. "I'm gonna ride you," she says. "If you're okay with that."

"Yeah," he says immediately. "Yeah, uh, more than okay."

She smiles, teeth flashing, and he realizes she doesn't usually do that. She doesn't look that unguarded usually, either.

"Great," she says, and reaches for the bedside table, and pulls open the shelf. "Do you want me to put it on?" she asks, holding the condom up.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Yeah. Totally. Uh, do I just—do you want me to just stay like this?" He indicates at his face and she tilts her head.

"Yes," she says. She brushes her fingers through the hair on the side of his face, scratches gently. It's a little weird. She touches his ear and scritches behind that, too.

"Uh. You know I'm not a dog, right?" he asks.

She laughs. "Oh, honey. Trust me, I know that." She leans down and kisses him; he keeps it gentle, and he can feel her tongue moving over his sharp canine. "I really know that," she says, and suddenly pushes herself back and slips her hand inside his boxers and squeezes his dick.

He gasps and arches up, and she laughs again, sounding cheerful. He likes it. And he really likes the way she's touching him. He can feel she's wet against his thigh, and he wonders when she's gonna take it further.

She flicks her thumb over the head of his dick and he growls, the sound coming from deep inside his chest.

"Oh, fuck," she says quietly, and then she's off the bed and pulling off her tights and panties. She kicks them to the side, and then she's back on top of Scott and pulling his boxers down.

She gets the condom on and Scott barely has time to blink before she's sitting down on his dick, her eyes slipping shut and her mouth falling open. Her hair's a mess, her face flushed, and she's tight and perfect around his dick. It's amazing.

She leans down and kisses him, and he moves his hands from her waist to her back, his claws trailing over her back, gentle enough not to hurt. She pulls back slightly and just rests her mouth against his cheek, fucking herself on his dick. Her scent is so much stronger now that he's shifted—he can smell just how turned on she is, how much she's loving it. It's kind of blowing his mind.

Still, he wants her to feel ever better, to help her get over that edge, so he moves his hand down and presses his thumb against her clit, only belatedly remembering his damn claws. They brush against her pubes, lightly scratching her skin and she _groans_ , and clenches around him. Scott's eyes go wide, and he presses the pad of his thumb against her clit again, circling it again.

"Fuck," she says. "Fuck, yeah, keep doing that."

He keeps at it, and she keeps riding him until he has to pulls his hand away and grab her waist because she's panting and coming. She digs her fingers into his arms, gripping tight, and she looks wrecked and beautiful and powerful. She could take him apart easily, _has_ done it, and Scott's so fucking into it.

She lets out a little gasp, clenching around him, and he finally tips over the edge and comes, gasping and totally overwhelmed by the brush of skin and the smell of her.

He barely registers it when she sits up and pulls off. He's still floating, his brain fuzzy and blank, and it feels so damn good. He's missed this. Well, he's not ever _had_ this with Lydia, of course, but he's—he just feels really fucking good right now. He kind of really hopes it won't be the last time. He'll have to ask her later.

"Hey," she says, and he blinks his eyes open. She's looking down at him, considering. She runs her fingers over his cheek. "You changed back."

"I—yeah. Wow." He gives her an apologetic look. "Sorry?"

She shakes her head. "It's fine," she says. "That was—that was good. I had fun."

"Great," Scott says. His brain's short-circuited.

"I liked it," she says, and strokes his chest. "Good work."

He laughs, because of course Lydia would be judging his performance. She helps him take the condom off and gets up from the bed. He's not sure where she goes. He's kind of drifting.

"Your opinion, Scott?" she asks, and he blinks his eyes open. She's kneeling on the bed. She taps her fingertips against his arm.

"Good, yeah," Scott pants out. "I just didn't—expect that." She raises her eyebrows, a challenge, and he hastens to add, "In a good way!" He's kind of totally blown away by how great that was.

She smiles, her expression both cocky and pleased. "Good."

"So should I—um. Am I gonna stay?"

She tilts her head. "Would your mom worry if you did?" He's thrown by the question, but in a nice way. This is _Lydia_. Someone he knows and who knows him. It's nice.

"She has the night shift," he says. "I can stay if you don't—if you want?"

She nods decisively and flops down on the bed, right next to him. "You can stay," she says.

There's a moment of slight awkwardness when she turns her back to him and he's not sure whether to snuggle up to her or not. But then Lydia sighs and relaxes, her heartbeat slowing, and he just rests his forehead against the back of her neck and falls asleep.


End file.
